


Respite

by BARALAIKA



Category: Drag-On Dragoon | Drakengard
Genre: Armpit Kink, Body Hair, Comfort, F/M, Intimacy, Pubic Hair, post baby body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 12:41:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13741098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BARALAIKA/pseuds/BARALAIKA
Summary: Caim seeks Arioch for a mote of comfort at night. She's surprisingly receptive.





	Respite

**Author's Note:**

> There's something intensely appealing to me about writing about human bodies as they really are, especially those of women who have had children. There's something very beautiful about the things that are often labelled as blemishes or things to be ashamed of when they are, in fact, completely normal and natural. Body hair is great! Tummy pooch is great! Stretch marks are gorgeous!

Caim wasn’t sure if Arioch really knew that he couldn’t answer her in the way that she wanted, but he shook his head as he clambered alongside her on her bedroll all the same. She was a bizarre woman, but now that his world laid in pieces around him, that seemed to matter less and less. Without Furiae to comfort him in the difficult nights and with his pact partner considerably more prickly, Arioch became the best bet to find feminine company that he needn’t worry about being vulnerable around. Well. If he woke up with a bite taken out of his shoulder, it was his own fault.  
  
She always slept naked and had no qualms about her party members seeing her in such a state-- it was such a recurring happening that everybody had given up on rushing her away from their communal fire in the morning to clothe herself before Seere saw, as he announced, unfazed, that he had seen it all before and wasn’t sure why people were so upset. Arioch clothed herself even less from that point on.  
  
Within her bed, Arioch’s body was hot and soft, instantly soothing against Caim’s tight muscles. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down to her in an embrace as he brought the cover over himself, then settled down into the crook of her neck. It was new and strange to lay with a woman who went without perfume. Arioch smelt like body, earthy and sweaty, but so good that Caim nuzzled his nose towards her armpit for a better sniff— she laughed, light and soft, and rose her arm a little to indulge him.  
  
“I’m dirty, darling! There’s nothing for you there~” giggled Arioch, but she never refused him when he wanted to bury his nose in the soft, chestnut-brown hair. It drove him wild. The only woman he’d ever lain with was a compulsive groomer, forever obsessed with removing it, appearing prim and proper and beautiful… and yet here was Arioch, with her gorgeous elven body and hair left untouched for years. Caim’s hands roved over her form and drank in the sweeps of her shape and where she was dimpled, where she creased and where her flesh hung. He traced long stripes on her hips and she wiggled them for him with a cheeky, playful moan— they’d been carved into her by her children, but her pact mark had been burned in close by.  
  
The soft, slightly baggy skin of her stomach held its mark slackly but Caim did not linger on it. Rather, it signalled the topmost point of her pubic hair: long, wispy and silken, tapering into wisps instead of curls and up her mound towards her navel. He didn’t know that it could grow so high on a woman… but Arioch was so welcoming, her body so innately touchable, so comfortable and so welcome. He could touch her for hours and had found himself doing so more and more.  
  
“No, no… be a good boy, shh, shh,” she gently reprimanded. She reached down and took hold of Caim’s hand at the wrist… and pulled it up to her breast instead, laying it on the abundant flesh. “Here. This is for you.”  
  
For a short while, Caim was a spoilt prince again. Huddled up with a beautiful woman all to himself, a plump nipple in his mouth and dainty hands smoothing his hair and playing with his ears. He could relax, warm himself…  
  
It was almost as if they weren’t despicable people— an appealing fantasy, but little more.


End file.
